#jesus christ I need to be tranquilized

[unblinking-umbra]

((If you're my partners, wait to read this 😒) (18+ in tags)

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ v

part four - part six

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ you're just as bad if not worse because maybe after all it was just in your head

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ 😈 - bob is lando ;) || google translate is my best friend

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y/nusername

📍 Tignes, France 

liked by charles_leclerc, noellepicard and 534,788 others

y/nusername ⛄️

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

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Hannahh have a great off season you three!

charliecharlie finally some charlesy/n content, I was getting worried 😫

joris__throuche maman et papa pendant leurs grandes vacances ❤️ (mom and dad on their big holiday)

↳ charles_leclerc tu nous manques fils (we miss you son)

y/nusername nous reviendrons bientôt (we'll be back soon)

manon_roux couldn't have tucked me into your suitcase?

↳ y/nusername sorry 😔

hannahh squeezing those cute little baby cheeks 😍

charlessix10 mom and dad, dad and mom? 😭

noellepicard babies 🥰

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y/nusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 489,871 others

y/nusername ☯️☮️

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norry4 MOTHER YES

julieeeexo you're such a beauty 😍

leondewitt jesus christ how did that kid bag this woman?

charlos16 I wanna be like you when I grow up..😩

charles_leclerc mon dieu, j'ai vraiment tellement de chance 😍 (my god, I'm so lucky)

↳ carlandooo were back to publicly simping for each other, war is over..all is good 😭

matthiasn lucky bastard

norrizz lando get out of here, acting like we don't see you liking all y/n her stuff, boy you're not subtle with it 💀

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y/nusername

📍 Tignes, France 

liked by joris__trouche, manon_roux and 487,892 others

y/nusername ⛄️⛄️

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

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thurthur Charles and Arthur trying to cook? Interesting

norrizz not the zoë snow angel, stop my heart 😭

bott_ass take me with you guys next time pls I'm begging :(

joris__trouche combien de vestes différentes as-tu emballées, j'en ai compté au moins 4 différentes jusqu'à présent 🤪 (how many different jackets did you pack, I counted at least 4 different ones so far)

↳ y/nusername t'inquiète pour tes propres affaires, laisse-moi tranquille (worry about your own things, leave me alone)

charles_leclerc je dois acheter plus de valises 😂 (need to buy more suitcases)

manon_roux nous savons tous que Charles emballe le plus de vêtements ici. (we all know charles packs the most clothes here.)

charles_leclerc coupable 🤷‍♂️ (guilty)

charliecharlie dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad charles dad– 😭

charlesgirlies so much charlesy/n content lately 😭

↳ leclec16 we keep winning! 😍

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Everything taglist; @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for S; the one where Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones (yes, including the supervillain one). 

Maybe it’s a trap, Match thinks warily as he stares down the crystal-lined hall stretching ahead. A trap would make more sense than Superman bothering to be concerned with his injuries. Much more. 

But also it’s fucking cold and Thirteen is already headed inside, and hell if he’s going to get left out here alone with Superman right now. He’d actually rather never be alone with Superman again, at this point.

Match follows Thirteen in, and Superman closes the doors behind them. 

“Welcome home, Kal-El,” a voice says, and a luminous hologram of a man in long robes appears in the high-ceilinged, arching hallway in front of them. 

“Home”? Match thinks in absolute incredulity. That cannot possibly be accurate. Just–no. Not even slightly. 

“Hello, Jor-El,” Superman says, smiling at the hologram with a slightly stressed expression. “We have a couple of guests.” 

“I see, yes,” the hologram says, looking from Match to Thirteen, and then back again, his eyes lingering assessingly on Match. “Jor-El”, apparently. “Well-done, Kal-El. You are proceeding very well, for lacking a proper birthing matrix to work with.” 

“That’s, uh–that’s not–” Superman cuts himself off, looking flustered. “I didn’t commission them, Jor-El.” 

“Isn’t Jor-El your dad’s name?” Thirteen asks, peering curiously at Jor-El. “And you kinda look like . . .” 

“I am an artificial intelligence formed from Jor-El’s memories and cast in his image,” Jor-El explains. “I maintain the Fortress when Kal-El is away.” 

“Sick,” Thirteen says, then looks embarrassed for some reason, possibly because he sounds like an idiot. “I mean–cool.” 

“The current external temperature is 15° F,” Jor-El says agreeably. 

Match cannot for the life of him figure out what he should be doing here, but “escaping this conversation” is an increasingly tempting option. 

“I need to make a call,” Superman says, clearing his throat. “But first–ah, Jor-El, can you scan our guests for injuries and pharmaceuticals? Just–general health scans, actually, but focus on injuries and pharmaceuticals, please.” 

“Kon-El has high levels of hypnotics and sedatives in his system,” Jor-El says. “And your youngest has moderate levels of sedatives and tranquilizers, along with low levels of opioids. He has one second-degree burn on his stomach, another on his right thigh, and a minor head injury. All other injuries are negligible."

“What?” Superman startles, his eyes snapping to Match. “They drugged you?”

Match frowns, not understanding why the man looks so surprised by that idea. 

“Yes,” he says anyway, since apparently there’s actually a question there. 

“Why?” Superman asks. Match continues not to understand why he’s surprised, or why he’s asking questions with such stupidly obvious answers. 

“To keep me manageable,” he says, because why else? Superboy is prone to anger and rage and drastic emotional spikes, and Match was made from the same template. And everyone knows what an angry Kryptonian can do. 

Even just half of an angry Kryptonian. 

Superman stares at him, looking . . . unsettled, almost. Thirteen grimaces. Match really doesn’t understand what the problem is. 

“You mean they always drug you,” Superman says slowly. 

“Obviously,” Match says dubiously. “I wouldn’t be manageable otherwise.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Thirteen mutters under his breath, putting a hand over his mouth and looking nauseous. Match doesn’t bother wasting time on trying to figure out why. Thirteen never has rational reactions anyway.

[tequiilasunriise]

The sheer soulmatism of Lenore and Annabel fucks me up so bad everytime I think too hard about it okay sit down y’all.

The way they were immediately drawn to each other even though they had no memory of anything! No reason to immediately become so attached and protective and trusting! Not even death could part them, it’s almost like reincarnation in a way. The sins of living and the pain that comes with being alive washed away not by holy water but rather split blood, and in this new life they’re reborn into a blank, clean slate. Even in this memoryless ‘next lifetime’ they still choose each other without hesitation, without question, and I am on my knees sobbing.

The parallels of Annabel fainting! Annabel fainted when she learned that Lenore was actually alive, and Annabel also fainted when remembering how she died, and by extension, how Lenore died too (not related to soulmatism but in one scenario her lover caught her despite the injury, and in the other Lenore had no such hinderance but failed to catch Annabel regardless and that parallel kills me so softly). The soulmatism that is reacting the same exact way when you learned she lived vs remembering how she died, the soulmatism that the love is still the same. Oh how the love is still so tragically the same, crossing that threshold of death, despite the unhappy ending you shared. Annabel faints because it’s learning you have a second chance at love vs remembering how that same love was ripped away and I am no longer on my knees but laying facedown on the floor.

(The way Annabel looked at Lenore before collapsing in both scenes but with DRASTICALLY different vibes of disbelief like okay yeah sure, sure okay mhm just smash my ribs and rip my heart right out why don’t you?)

Now, NOW, the thing that truly ends me? The crazy red/blue symbolism these two carry.

Lenore is the embodiment of red. Her thoughts come in red print, as do the ribbons she was wrapped up in. Her fiery (pun intended), confident personality, her pure raging defiance rallying those around her. What’s more, Lenore’s anger and bared teeth is painted red the same way her love is, because red is not just the color of anger. Red is love, and Lenore, my god, she cares so openly about the people around her that her heart’s just painted bloody and brazen on her sleeve. Born from self-made infernos into the person she was always meant to be- flirty, quick-witted, taking what she wants when she wants- she is a young Montague wrapped up in her family’s house colors trailblazing down her own paths.

(But unlike dear Romeo who scaled a tree to look upwards towards Juliet on her balcony, Lenore was in a tree looking downwards at her counterpart, and this parallel is so important as the scene is clearly a Romeo/Juliet parallel but without the sweet sappiness but rather tension and just like, 1000x more interesting ‘can I trust you fr fr-ness’.)

Annabel is the embodiment of blue. Her thoughts come in blue print, and her ribbons are a deep blue to match. Blue is the color of calmness, and she seems so tranquil with a gentle yet firm confidence that puts people around her at ease. A natural born leader with such cool-headedness. Oh, but underneath that mask? Sadness. SO MUCH sadness, Annabel is an ocean of it, she’s a peaceful smile with a melancholic heart shot through. Young Capulet holds not pure innocence like her Juliet-counterpart but rather a deep rooted loneliness, like guys, Annabel is actually just so fucken SAD I think we really need to address this more yes she’s a total girlboss but also Annabel is the personification of hollowed out loneliness that comes with your beloved being ripped away from you.

This really got away from me, but my point?

Lenore, the embodiment of red, has blue eyes.

Annabel, the embodiment of blue, has red-adjacent eyes.

FORGET LAYING ON THE GROUND IN TEARS I AM CURRENTLY CLIPPING THROUGH THE FLOOR AND HEADING STRAIGHT GAY TO MY GRAVE IN THE BACKROOMS!!!

YOUR HONOR THEIR EYES ARE THE GODDAMNED COLORS OF THE OTHER’S MOTHERMARYFUCKING S O U L LIKE WHAT IN THE JESUS H CHRIST BUMBLEBY SOULMATISM IS T H I S S S⁉️⁉️⁉️

[garbinge]

You, Me, and Italy

Michael Berzatto x F!Reader From these August Prompts:  Italy Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: All my fics are 18+, angsty, mentions of suicide, death, grief, loss, broken heart, drug use, addiction, being high, someone close to ODing, uncomfortable, sad, mentions of sexual situations, it's based on canon mentions of suicide and death and grieving, but a little more in depth. So just be weary of any triggers one might have in reference to these things.

A/N: This is not apart of my Richie Jerimovich multichap. This is heavy. I try and steer clear of fics like this because of my own triggers and trauma around drug abuse and addiction but this just was an idea sitting in my head probably because of all that trauma. The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x @adorable-punk-superheroes @lodeddiperrodrick @isalver @captainweasleybarnes @musicwithteeth @fancyvoidtragedy @shinebright2000 @knight4xmas

The kitchen was always your favorite place to be when you couldn’t sleep. Something about the ability to hear every single noise in a space where usually you’d be lucky to hear the person next to you speak at a normal tone. 

You had come in through the back, placed your stuff down in the locker that had your name written on a green piece of tape, your insanely patterned bandana was snug around your head just above your forehead, something you always wore when cooking. Now, the sounds of the water running as you washed her hands filled your ears and was followed by the clunks of pulling the knives out, the blade tinging as you set it free from its case. Now slicing, the quick quippy sounds of the thin slices of all the items you needed to prep. Basil, onions, garlic, fig, and parmesan cheese. All the ingredients you picked up from the grocery story that was still open this late. The chopping and the sizzling filled your ears in a similar way that music would fill someone else’s. It kept you grounded, kept you calm, kept you in the moment. 

“Late night snack?” A voice interrupted that tranquility but surprisingly, there was no reaction from your side. You kept steady as your hand tossed the garlic and basil in the olive oil, other hand equipped with a spoon ready to add in the parmesan ricotta mixture. 

“You’re lucky I don’t scare easily.” Your voice was steady as you focused on the pan in front of you. 

Mikey looked down and laughed before he made his way from the office over to his best chef and best friend. He leaned against the prep area, hands crossed as you had your back to him. 

“You should toast the breadcrumbs.” Mikey said as he took in what you were doing. 

Immediately, your head turned to look over your shoulder and shot the man a look. “I’m a one-woman show here, Mikey. I’m getting to it.” 

“You know, I can help you out.” He had crossed his leg over the other now as he waited for a response. “Only if you want to.” His arms were now uncrossed as he raised them in a surrender.

Your head tilted, the only invitation he needed to start helping out. 

“I’m making arancini, fig and garlic arancini.” You specified. 

“Rice balls. You’re making rice balls.” Mikey teased. “What inspired the fig?” He asked as he toasted the bread crumbs at the stove next to you. 

“Remember when we went to that bar the other night?” You looked up at him, despite being a few feet down from you, he still towered over you in height. “While you and Richie were off doing God knows what, I ordered shit from the bar. They had this fig, arugula, and goat cheese pizza.”

“Jesus Christ, what fuckin’ bar were we at?” Mikey laughed at the fanciness of how it all sounded. 

“That place, Porta. I’d say it was more hipster than fancy.” 

“God, I don’t even remember.” Mikey laughed before placing his attention back on you and continuing the conversation. “So the pizza was good?” 

“It was, and I just kept thinking what would go well with fig and landed at a rice ball.” 

“Arancini.” Mikey corrected you with the biggest grin growing on his face. 

A laugh left your mouth as you took the sauce off the heat, wanting it to cool down slightly before pouring it into the egg mixture that was already placed in the fridge. 

The silence fell over the both of you and you both continued to move around the kitchen. Mikey stood with the bowl of rice in his hands, resting it on the prep counter as you stood over and poured in the egg mixture. Mikey was whisking it around rapidly, that way the eggs didn’t scramble. The smell coming from the bowl was filled with savory scents of garlic and sweet touches of fig reduction. 

“You good, buddy?” Mikey was looking at you as he stirred everything around. It wasn’t so much in reference to your current state, which was focused as you concentrated on pouring the egg mixture in, but more in reference to why you were here late. 

Buddy. Such a Mikey term. The two of you knew each other for years, meeting when you were smoking in the back of the restaurant you used to work out. To put it in simple terms, he poached you. He had just grabbed a bite at said restaurant, with his brother Carmy, a detail you found out later since Mikey came alone to the alley in the back where you had been taking a break. He asked if you had made the slow braised beef and proceeded to tell you about his restaurant. You never walked back into that restaurant again and started at The Beef the next day. 

As time passed, things got close with Mikey. The two of you just fed off each other, you vibed effortlessly and one day that led to more. You spent a majority of the night locked in the office making a bed out of the table, the floor, the bookshelf, anything that had an inch of a flat surface, Mikey took you. That however, never amounted to more. It was always just sex. There was no label on what the two of you had, no real dates, no holding hands, just stolen moments around the restaurant, late nights in the kitchen, nights out at bars, and overnights spent at each others places. But that never made anything awkward because despite their being no label, everyone knew there was something between you two. It was impossible to miss. The way you two got along, the way you spent every waking moment together, whether you were at the restaurant or not. But what the real dead giveaway was, you two moved in the kitchen like you had perfected a choreographed dance, every, single, time. There was never any missteps, any arguing, no bumping into each other, you just glided by each other, calling out kitchen terms and directions. It was a sight to be seen, everyone thought so. Including the family. Sugar and Carmy were impressed when you came by for the first time maybe a month into starting at The Beef. Richie had already seen how the two of you worked together but both Berzatto siblings were shocked by it. 

“Hey, you good?” Mikey repeated himself and bent down a little to look into your eyes. 

“Yea, sorry.” You shook your head from your thoughts. 

“I don’t buy it.” Mikey pressed you again for more information. “What’s with late night rice balls?” 

“You ever feel stuck?” There was no point in trying to hide what you were feeling from Mikey. 

“Uh, just every day of my life.” You let out a breath through your nose in a sort of chuckle. “I just, wish I could get out of here.” The frustration was littered in your voice. 

“Where would you go?” He set the bowl down now that everything was stirred, and he turned to face you. 

“Anywhere.” You turned too so you were facing him. 

“So let’s go.” His voice raised, like what he said and meant didn’t need planning, didn’t need money, he spoke it outloud like it was the easiest thing to achieve. 

“Yea, where?” You were about to start naming off places around here in Chicago as a joke but he was quick to answer you. 

“Italy.” 

You frowned but a smile was growing on your face. “Italy?” You questioned. 

“Yea, let’s go to Italy, we’ll eat all the rice balls in the fuckin’ country, we’ll learn how to make ‘em like a true Italian. We’ll eat our way around Rome, Sicily, Naples, it’ll be great, just me and you and Italy.” He was so energetic in how he spoke, his hands were in the air, his voice was echoing off the kitchen walls. 

“You, me, and Italy?” You questioned him as your head nodded in agreement. 

“You, me, and Italy.” Mikey nodded with the biggest smile on his face. 

____

Time might’ve passed and a lot of things might’ve changed, but sometimes stayed exactly the same. You were pushing through the back door of The Beef, bag and kitchen tools in hand as the clock ticked past 1AM. 

“Mikey?” You called out, expecting to see him appear in the kitchen. You called out again and heard nothing. It was odd, but also maybe not. He had been distant lately, you picked up on that when most nights he didn’t come back to your place. You knew things had been tough for him, he was having money issues and as a result moved back in with his mother, he was stressed. Every time you did get the chance to see him, he wasn’t fully there, sometimes you’d taste alcohol on his breath, others you could tell his mind was caught in a thought or 20. 

Moving to the lockers, you saw the door open just slightly and the lamp on illuminating a ton of paperwork. You saw his hand resting on the table and slowly peaked in. 

Now, you had your suspicions, they were probably more than suspicions, you knew. You knew Mikey was hooked on something. But you didn’t want to accept it. But there it was, slapping you right in the face. It had been functional, he had been functional, which is what made it easy for you to question, for you to say nothing. After tonight, you’d regret it, you’d regret staying silent, not giving in to your suspicions, voicing them out loud. 

You took in the sight of him, he was so out of it, you could see his glazed over eyes even from the distance you were at. The giveaway as if everything else wasn’t so obvious was the pills scattered all over the paperwork in front of him. 

“Mikey.” The urgency hit you just as much as the the scene of him. You were next to him in seconds, shaking him awake. 

The smile that filled his face as he stared at you, the smile that warmed your heart, the smile that melted you, the smile of your best fucking friend was breaking you. 

“What–what’re you doin’ here?” 

“How much did you take, Mikey?” You moved forward to the table to search for a bottle, a pill count, see how many were on the table, but Mikey’s hands began to grab your arms. 

“No, no, no, no, no. Stop, you’re ruining the fun.” Mikey complained, his voice was slurred. 

You pulled back immediately, uncomfortable and unsure what to do. Your heart was beating fast and before your tears could even start falling, Mikey started yelling. “You’re ruining the fun!!” It was a repetition of what he had said before and all it did was secure your feet frozen to the ground. “That’s all anyone ever does anymore. Ruin the fucking fun.” He spun in the swivel chair like a child and when it stopped spinning he looked at the bookshelf and began speaking again, but this time more at a whisper. 

“Even my own fuckin girl. I can’t have anything.”  

You snuck out the door, searching for your phone in your pocket. The irony that in your hastiness, you spent more time looking for it than if you searched for it with purpose and patience. 

As you picked your phone up to your ear, your hand was shaking. “C’mon, pick up, pick up.” You mumbled, taking your other hand to pick at your lip. 

“It’s 1 in the fuckin’ morning, I’m neck deep in shit diapers, if this is you and Mikey asking me to go out, I’m blocking your number for eternity.” Richie seemed stressed in a completely different way. 

“Richie, it’s Mikey, he uh, I don’t know, there’s pills, he’s awake–sort of?, he’s angry, I don’t know how much he took but he, he uh, I just need help, I need you down here, can you get down here, please?” The shakiness in your voice was the dam holding back your tears. 

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Keep him up.” 

With that Richie hung up and you were moving back into the office, you squatted down and turned the chair so he was facing you. “Mikey, babe?” You tried to keep your voice soft. His red, glossy eyes met yours as he plopped his head down to look at you. 

“My girl.” A little bit of hope filled his face, he reached his hand up to cup your face. The impulse to pull away was strong but you stayed there, you stayed there with him and let him speak to you. 

“You’re so pretty, you know that? So pretty. And you’re so talented, you can throw down, you know that? Best fuckin slow braised beef I’ve ever fuckin’ had.” 

The amount of compliments he was giving you, it should’ve had you elated, floating, with butterflies but instead it was making you sick–uneasy. And you just had to sit there and let him say it, over and over again. You were counting in your head, hoping that once you got to the 10th 60th second count, that Richie would be here. 

“Hey hey hey, you listening to me?” Mikey moved slightly to look at you, even in his fogged state he could tell your mind was elsewhere. 

“Mhm.” You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared into his eyes. 

“You, me, and Italy, baby. You, me, and Italy.” The second time he said it, it was in a whisper like he was desperate for it to be true. Like if he said it low enough the world would grant him the wish. That’s when you really saw him, saw what was happening in his brain. Alongside that hopeful look was one of peace and happiness. The absolute gut wrenching emotion you felt in your heart when you realized it. How being high set Mikey free, set him free from his demons, in some weird twisted way this was the closest you’ve seen Mikey to his usual self. 

Before your heart could break anymore, you heard Richie’s voice behind you and he was slipping into your spot and picking Mikey up.

______

“You know I remember this one time, we went over to Mikey’s place, the one on Courtyard, me, Carm, and Richie, and it was Sunday, Braciole night. We walk in, Mikey’s got the game playing so loud in the background, we start prepping, cooking. I remember he told me not to put raisins in the braciole even though that’s how mom did it. And he just, he had this smile on for those first 30 minutes, like he had something planned, like he was in on the joke. But the thing is none of us knew what the joke was. And then, the door opened, we were all confused at who it was and then, this woman appeared. Mikey introduced her to us, he was so happy, and we were like shocked, cause Mikey, our big brother, the player, brought this girl over to our fucked up family Sunday night dinner. She didn’t care that the TV was loud, that we were even louder, that Mikey and Richie would tell the most insane stories, over and over again, and in fact, she moved around the kitchen like, well, like she’d known us all our whole lives. I don’t know if I ever saw Mikey so happy.” Sugar was sitting in bed, her phone on speaker while you sat silent on the other line. 

“You at the restaurant?” Sugar cleared her throat. 

“Standing right outside it.” You spoke up, trying to hide your tears from the story Sugar just told. 

“I’ll be there soon.” There was rustling on the other side of the phone, like she had started to get up and get ready. 

“Sugar?” You questioned, worried she was about to hang up. 

“Hm?” She hummed. 

“Thank you.” It was two words but sometimes you needed to hear it. How much Mikey loved you, he didn’t tell you often, but you felt it, you saw it. But now, that he was gone, that all that was left of Mikey for you was the things he left at your place, the memories you shared, you took the antidotes Sugar occasionally told you and kept them someplace special. 

“I’ll see you in the chaos.” Sugar replied back to you in which you did the same. 

For a few seconds after the phone call, you stood there, staring at the gutted restaurant, staring at the mayhem happening behind the glass, which was normal for the restaurant, whether it was in business or not. But right now, standing outside, in the peace of the quiet reminded you of those late nights in the kitchen, and you were destined to hold onto that peace for just a few more minutes. 

Eventually, you joined the chaos. Greeting everyone as you made your way through the renovation. Finding yourself getting swept up into something in the immediate first seconds you entered the front door. After an hour or so, when you wrapped up your job in the front, you made your way to the kitchen.  

“What’re you doing?” You placed your stuff down in the office as you walked past Richie, Fak, and Marcus who were gathered around someone’s phone watching a video, arguing back and forth. Natalie stood up from the chair in the office and placed a hand on your shoulder in a half greeting and walked over to the arguing men. Your eyes lingered on the office table and chair a little longer than normal, letting the memories flood into your brain for a short few seconds before you turned to put your attention back on everyone. 

“Scraping and painting and fighting over moving the lockers.” Marcus spoke up. 

You turned around and stepped out of the office, staring at them trying to attempt to move the lockers. Carmy had appeared now, yelling at them to keep it down and when the mention of Mikey’s locker still being locked was announced, that’s when everyone silences. 

“Just fuckin’ open it.” Carmy spoke up. 

A hat. June 5th, 2010. Taste of Chicago. The booth. 

You smiled at that. You weren’t there for the booth, but you heard all about it. From the family, but from Mikey, it was one of the many stories he’d tell you over and over and honestly, you’d do anything to hear him tell it 200 more times. 

Carmy handed the hat to Richie, and as he turned around his eyes fell on your. 

“Yo, uh, I got something for you.” He said and walked right past you into the office, searching for something. As everyone went back to working, you turned and took a few steps towards Carmy as he moved the papers around looking for something. 

“So, uh, we’re sending Ebra and Tina to culinary school, for them to stay sharp, learn some new shit, and uh, I–we, Syd and I figured you didn’t want or honestly really need that, so uh–here!” He proclaimed the last word louder than the rest as he found the envelope with your name written on it and handed it to you. 

You looked down at it for a second and then back at Carmy, you two didn’t talk much in general, but you definitely didn’t talk much about him. 

“You and Syd…” You started to say as you mindlessly tapped the envelope against your skin. “You uh,” You wanted to say that the two of them reminded you a lot of you and Mikey, the effortlessness in the kitchen, the way their ideas just bounced off each others and how they brought this new sense of life to each other. But it was that last thought that weighed heavy on you. There was a point that Mikey brought a new sense of life to you and you did the same to him but unfortunately that emotion, that feeling, had changed at some point, at no ones fault but it didn’t stop you from not cherishing it more. “Just, don’t take it for granted.” 

“Yea, yea.” Carmy nodded, getting where you were coming from but also not really wanting to get into it and you were okay with that because you didn’t want to get into it either. 

Carmy’s eyes moved down to the envelope and back to you. Taking the hint you nodded. “Right.” You said quickly and began to rip the envelope open. As your hand reached in and pulled out the papers in the envelope, you saw the word United and then followed by a seat and time and that’s when you saw the airports. 

ORD – NAP

Naples International Airport. 

“Carmy.” You looked up, eyes shocked. 

“It’s what Mikey would’ve wanted.” Carmy nodded and walked by you, taking his hand to rest on your shoulder and then tap it as he exited the office. 

You stared down at the tickets, trying to take in everything. 

“You, me, and Italy, Mikey.”  

[millenniumfae]

Dragon Age Demons vs Real-Life 'Inner Demons'

Way back in the summer of 2015, my symptoms got so unbearable I was bedridden. 20 years old and experiencing psychosis, quasi-hallucinations, and actual, unending panic for the first time. It marked the start of a condition that has never stopped since.

My aunt (and other relatives) helped me develop proper mindfulness skills based off of our homeland's folk Buddhism - the 'second arrow'. The meaningless of forgiveness. Devaluing control. And something that struck me as a new Dragon Age fan … 'Possession'.

Well, when translated to english, you'll find texts using the word 'insight' rather than 'possession'. But that's the word my mom translated from off the top of her head, and it immediately resonated with me.

"Imagine your panic as an inner creature. Something that is also you, but is acting independently. Treat your panic with kindness and mentorship, not antagonism. The more you struggle in the spider's web, the worse things get. But if you nourish what's hurting in you, let them tantrum, then come back in to nurture."

Up until the 2010s, the most acclaimed mental health books you could buy written in the english language would most certainly be christianity-influenced. Maybe not overtly, (but you'd be surprised how many have a chapter about "insert-book-topic-here and Christ") but there's little hints like how the reader must have left home at 18 to avoid mooching off their parents, or how to 'turn guilt into something productive' (???), the use of the word 'gamble' as a bad word, etc. But these books tend to include a chapter that would be some weird bullshit like "The Dark Souls Of Respawning?? What Daoism Says About Immortality" and take a brief moment to talk about the radical, never-before-heard-of methods from across the pacific that Will Turn Your World Upside Down.

Behavior therapists (of the 1950s) were aware insights about the origins of the problem usually weren't helpful. Exposure to the thing the patient feared was often curative. -When Panic Attacks by David D. Burns MD, Chapter 18, "Taking a page from the Tibetan Book of the Dead"

Now, it's no secret that the Dragon Age serial is very. Um. Christian. Catholic, specifically. Faith is written to be an unequivocally redeeming trait. Attempts at inventing fake elf/qunari/Tevinter 'religions' still have them be belief-based, colonialist, and conversion-heavy, while also at the same time implying that the 'Maker' of Chantry faith is the single actual true god.

So it's no surprise that the demons and spirits of DA are very seven-deadly-sins. Party banter and side-quests do point out the euro/christian-centricity of this demon categorization (Merrill, Solas), but that doesn't mean shit if, in overall story and gameplay proper, Pride is the most powerful demon while Faith is virtue at all.

So here I am, lying in bed and only capable of just riding the waves of panic day after torturous day. You bet I'm gonna try to geek-erize my symptoms. If people do it with Jesus, then I can do it with Dragon Age.

Enter Vigilance the Spirit. I was an at-risk young Rivani mage, so their Magic Welfare Government helped me join their クサビ-依り代 program and matched me with a spirit to induce possession. Can't boil two skulls in one pot, so to speak. I could have chosen to do their hemispherectomy program (I am made Tranquil but carry around a piece of the Fade like a pacemaker that keeps me perfectly lucid, only turning off when I sleep), but that comes with its own risks.

But it doesn't take much for a spirit of Vigilance to do a 180 and become Panic. They're still Vigilance, and I am still me, but the taste in the mouth is different. Our life will need to adapt.

I will not kick myself for 'failing' my friend. Vigilance has turned to Panic, yes. But they have always been one. Now, so are me and Panic. Such is the nature of spirits.

If I am kind to my spirit, then I am kind to myself. It's what we both deserve.

[no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist]

Underrated scenes from each ss book

These aren't all scenes and I think the flf section just turned into a highlight reel of things i love about flf but here.

TVD

The scene where Roma picks up tiny Alisa because she was climbing inside of his walls and she's like hey don't rip my shirt it's new :( when her shirt his very obviously extremely old.

Not a scene but just the fact that the White Flower's used to have a golden retriever named Tsarina.

Idk if it's underrated exactly but that scene where Rosalind waits for Juliette in her room for three hours to tell her about the monster attack hits me like a truck every time I remember it.

"What is a Montague? It sounds Italian."

The scene where Benedikt holds Tyler at gunpoint after he threatens Marshall because he knows Marshall wouldn't have had the impulse control to not shoot

Roma beating the shit out of Dimitri

Celia coming up with her fake backstory for a Communist meeting and saying, "My mother is dead. My father is dead to me."

Juliette calling Roma a "wet blanket"

Juliette taking responsibility for Celia when she accidentally knocked Amethyst out

OVE

Juliette Cai says healthcare for all

Alisa being mad at Roma because he hasn't taught her how to catch a knife

Marshall styling Juliette's hair

Juliette making fun of newsboy cap guy

The Marshall flashback to when he met Benedikt

Roma and Juliette getting tailed by the the French White Flower guy who ends up being one of the monsters and Roma saying idk maybe he thinks I'm hotter than you when Juliette asks him why the guy looks like he wants to kill Roma

Benedikt knocking Roma out before trying to kill Juliette because holy shit

When Alisa realizes that Roma agreed to a duel to get her back

When Rosalind had Roma at gunpoint

"I would rather the two of you not burn the world down each time you choose each other."

The paragraphs where Celia starts really being Celia are just so,,,

Somehow I forgot that Alisa was already officially a Communist spy in the OVE epilogue?

fhh spoilers

FLF

Celia forcing Rosalind out of bed to go to Lourens when she wanted to die

Orion calling Dao Feng "Old Man"

Rosalind immediately making tranquilizers right when Orion moves in because she doesn't want to put up with his shit

Silas writing and publishing a fucking op-ed at 14 immediately after getting home from London (iconic)

The implication that Silas has tried to confess to Phoebe before which I call bullshit on.

Not a scene but when Orion shows back up in the morning before their first day at Seagreen, I am convinced that the red stuff on his neck was blood not lipstick.

I NEED TO KNOW IF JIEMIN'S CROSS WAS A SIGN OF ALLEGIANCE TO PRIEST?????

"Who's stealing Silas from you? You're the notorious boyfriend stealer not me." because what exactly are we implying help-

Rosalind remembering hearing Silas's parents brag about him

Phoebe "spying" on Seagreen while she has Silas wait in the car

Lao Lao instantly adopting Orion

I think a lot of the olivercelia stuff in flf is a bit underrated because a lot of us were too busy being haters for a while but the necklace knife scene!

"My little ego can always stand being snapped at by you, sweetheart."

Oliver being really really freaked out in the warehouse hit different now that we have more context ughhhh

Orion thinking that his dad might have done something to his mom. What the fuck. And also being in that house with them alone for years jesus christ

Alisa covering her walls in drawings from Benedikt

Rosalind killing Zilin

Silas taking on Orion's assignments when his headaches were really bad

The fact that Lord and Lady Hong probably knew that Oliver was onto something when Orion told Lord Hong about Oliver breaking in

The cards that Zilin had in his pocket were a spade and a diamond (spade = aroace and diamond = demi)

Rosalind and Orion's argument after the Peach Lily Palace incident

Celia being like stfu Oliver (i like telling him what to do. teehee. aNYWAY)

Ik the nation over everything quote gets talked about a lot but I think people seem to forget how pissed Celia was after he said that. Because "You're so damn selfish. Have you ever stopped to consider that I value your life just as much? If you want to protect me, don't you think that I want to protect you, too?" And then the way that Oliver is absolutely baffled by this. Ack.

Rosalind flinching when Orion pretended to kiss her forehead towards the start of flf vs her casually noting it when he actually kissed her temple midway through flf

Alisa casually having Russian classic literature at her desk despite the fact that she probably stopped receiving formal school at about 13. Slay queen.

The domestic spat. I don't think we've talked about it in a bit I'm so disappointed in us.

Alisa seeing Rosalind and Dimitri together and never saying anything about it

Silas immediately hanging up when Lord Hong picked up when he was trying to call Phoebe

Also who were Gray and Archer??? I thought they were going to be important but oh well

"She doesn't bite." "Yes, I do." like geez ok Rosalind thank you for sharing

"Phoebe walked a small circle around the hospital corridor. Silas, his eyes tracking her absently, stood with his chin propped in one palm." Yeah ok.

Then the scene after Orion sees Rosalind's scars where they're both lying on her bed together and talk for a little bit. I don't know if it's underrated exactly, but I have a very clear image of it in my mind and it is very parallely and nice I like this scene

Alisa drinking orange juice out of a coffee mug. Why? Because.

Tiny detail but Orion telling Phoebe to stop answering the phone in English because he's afraid of gossip

Phoebe immediately going DO I GET TO SEDUCE PRETTY WOMAN???? when Orion tells her he needs her help and him being absolutely exhausted by her

"You warn me for control." "I don't need your warning." I want to kiss Rosalind on the mouth.

Ok sorry but I do not interpret the scene where Orion steals the Frenchwoman's necklace as him flirting with her I think he just put on a really exaggerated twink voice because it's funnier that way

Silas knocking out a guard by holding a cloth with sedatives to his face when he and Phoebe broke Alisa out of jail.

Also just Silas trying to signal to Alisa that he's totally definitely a double agent in the process of betraying everyone because Alisa knows that he's aligned with the Communists somehow while Phoebe is Priest is so insane.

Silas fixing Phoebe's hair then Phoebe noticing that he shifted maybe half and inch away from her going hmm no that's not allowed and shifting closer to him. Especially since there's not very much emotion in her internal monologue in flf since you're not really getting her pov you're just getting a front.

"Are you keeping any other secrets from me, Janie Mead?" "One. But I don't want to tell you yet."

Orion faking a nosebleed

"His proximity was supposed to be some sort of tactic to make her flustered, she guessed, but she was only concentrating on the fact that Orion had missed a sport right by his jaw." Rosalind you absolute genius (I am so obsessed with her)

Phoebe entering Silas's house then immediately going hihihihihihi pay attention to meeeeeeeeeee without telling him that she was planning on coming over

Probably not underrated but. "Phoebe's scowl was immediate, taken aback as to who was in his bedroom, but she realized seconds later that the voice was too grainy and distant to be a visitor." Just something about Phoebe not recognizing it as her own voice and being jealous of a part of herself that she doesn't really recognize as herself is just. so. ahhhh.

aDmIrAtIoN

Not underrated but. The scene where Rosalind is like. Orion put his head on my lap to annoy me. His hair looks dumb. I am going to yoink it. To bother him. Then just. Starts playing with his hair.

A random guy selling flowers seeing a boy and a girl in a car together and thinking ah yes. customers. then fearing for his life and running away after watching phoebe yoink Silas out of his car

Phoebe conning Silas into thinking she wanted him to drive her around so she could observe architecture. Damn he is easy to trick

"'Can't I convince you to partake in a different outing instead?' Silas pleaded. 'I'll buy you cake. Or pastries? You like pastries.' 'No! We have to do this.' Phoebe separated her clasped hands, clutching at her skirts instead. 'Do you want to watch me beg?' 'pHOEBE-' 'So help me, I'll get on my knees right in the middle of the street, and then you will have to answer for my virtue-' 'Fine, fine,' Silas hurried to say, unable to withstand her theatrics. There were two red blots deepening on his cheeks." .......................ok.

Alisa purposely freaking Silas out by telling him that he has to handle the explosives. Then they end up being firecrackers she bought from a middle schooler.

Phoebe making the 🥺🥺🥺 face and Silas covering her eyes

Alisa faking a middle aged man voice

Rosalind looking at Orion and being like hmm he's really pretty it kind of looks like he's wearing mascara. Anyway.

To be continued because I'm hitting the word limit oops

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

The Peace of God

by Archibald Alexander

There are three words, pregnant with precious and important meaning, commonly used by the apostles in their salutations and benedictions, GRACE, MERCY, and PEACE. These words include everything which man needs or can desire.

Peace is the legacy which Christ gave to his disciples: "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you." And after his resurrection, the first time he met with his disciples when assembled together, he said, "Peace be unto you." He gives peace not as the world gives. He is the PRINCE OF PEACE, and his gospel is the "gospel of peace." It is called "the peace of God," because he is its author. It is a sweet and gentle stream which flows from the fountain of life beneath his throne. Happy is he who has received this heavenly gift; it will, in the midst of external storms and troubles, preserve his mind in a tranquil state. It is independent of external circumstances. It is most exquisitely enjoyed in times of affliction and persecution. "In the world you shall have tribulation; but these things have I spoken unto you, that in me you might have peace." It is a fruit of the Spirit: "love, joy, peace." It includes reconciliation with God. "Being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."

Peace of conscience is a fruit of reconciliation with God. The blood which reconciles, when sprinkled on the conscience, produces a sweet peace which can be obtained in no other way. If the atonement of Christ satisfies the law which condemned us, and we are assured that this atonement is accepted for us, conscience, which before condemned, as being the echo of the law, is now pacified.

The peace of God also includes freedom from jarring, discordant passions of the mind. The wicked, however prosperous externally, can have no true peace within. Their ambition and pride and avarice, and love of ease and carnal indulgence, can never be harmonized. One may be the master-passion, but the others will arise and create disturbance and turmoil within.

The only passion which effectually harmonizes the discordant passions of human nature, is the love of God. Wherever this is introduced, it will not only be predominant, but bring all other desires into willing subjection. The peace of God is not a mere negative blessing, consisting in exemption from the misery of discord; it is a positive enjoyment of the purest, sweetest kind. It is a foretaste of the bliss of heaven. Nothing on earth is so delightful. It is therefore said to "pass understanding." No one could have thought man's miserable soul could possess such enjoyment in this world. But why is so little known of the peace of God--in the experience of professing Christians? I leave everyone to answer for himself.

[cockdestroyer32]

some plans...

tangerine x fem!reader

word count: 2k

tags: SFW, bickering, violence, murder (they are assassins after all), tension, drinking, rivals to (not really) lovers

summary: after reluctantly teaming up in order to survive, you and tangerine disagree about what would be the best plan to use, leading to you having to save him.

authors note: I have a really specific taste in fics and couldn't find too many that fit those strict requirements so I just decided to write one and post it lol. english is not my first language so if some things aren't correct, I apologize. anyway I love this man so much I'm abt to repeat his name three times in the mirror at 3am to see if he shows up in my room cuz I need him

The bar area was washed by the neon green light descending from the ceiling. Due to the lack of people in the room, the compartment was mainly quiet, with only the sounds of distant passengers chatting and the speeding train to fulfill that tranquility. You stood in front of the bar countertop, one elbow leaning on it, supporting the weight of your body, impatient. When you got particularly bored, you took a sip of the champagne you gave yourself the liberty of pouring. You usually didn’t allow yourself to drink on the job, but due to recent circumstances, you decided alcohol was a much-needed aid. Tangerine was “recent circumstances” of course. 

You did not, in any way, plan on teaming up with each other, but when the briefcase ended up being stolen by a third party, you found your goals aligning and decided to join forces for better chances of survival. But you truly did not expect Tangerine to be this much of a pain in the ass. You had always chosen to work alone, having control over jobs and only worrying about yourself had always been important, which is why this was so hard. Plus the fact that Tangerine was just incredibly difficult. Mainly that. Now you waited for him to return so you could continue on your little mission, and hopefully get off this train in one piece. 

You finally saw the man walking in your direction, he approached you and leaned his elbow on the countertop, mirroring you.

“Six men. Two guarding the first door, two the middle, and two the last door.” He said, looking at the passing city in the window.

“And that’s not counting the guys in the surveillance compartment?”

“No, only two there.”

“Alright. I got the 6.” You take a sip of your champagne.

“Now hold on there, darlin’ I can get the 6 guys.”

“Okay, well, so can I.”

“Well no offense love, but I can get this done way fuckin’ quicker than you.” 

You sigh. Here we go.

“Then what is your plan exactly?”

“What’d ya mean a fuckin’ plan? What do I need a goddamn plan for? Just get in there and take them on.”

“Really? That’s your plan?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He took your glass of champagne, allowing himself to take a sip, much to your displeasure.

“No offense, Tangerine, but going into a fight guns blazing isn’t exactly a tactic that works with six people, no matter how skilled you think you are.”

“Well, what is your brilliant fuckin’ plan? Enlighten me.”

“When you’re dealing with six highly trained guards all at once, your best course of action is to play a little pretend game, be obnoxious and separate a few from the rest of the group, therefore improving your odds.” You explained like an increasingly frustrated teacher on their 5th attempt at schooling a young child.

He then set your glass of champagne back on the countertop and slid it over to your side, as if saying ‘Mine, now…yours.’ “Oh so you’re gonna do some bloody theatrics is that right?”

“Yes. And they’re much more likely to believe the desperate young woman rather than the ‘Oi, now that’s bloody brilliant innit’ dude.” You mocked his accent.

“I don’t fuckin’ sound like that.”

“Beg to differ.” You mutter into your glass of champagne.

“Listen, we can stay here all night discussing what’s the best tactic to use but we are on a time crunch, and unless you let me do my fuckin’ part neither one of us is leaving this goddamn train because our corpses will be too busy being shoved inside some fuckin’ suitcases by some braindead White Death lackey.” 

He’s not wrong, you could stay here arguing all night, but you know the fucker isn’t gonna back down and there is no time, so…this time he’s gonna be having it his way. You sigh, now leaning with both elbows on the bar countertop, facing away from Tangerine, giving him no reply. He notices this quiet surrender, which of course, amuses him thoroughly. “Don’t worry love,” He continued with a smile on display. You take yet another sip of your champagne, apparently smudging your red lipstick. “Some plans…” He brushes his thumb over the corner of your mouth, cleaning it. “…are just better than others.” Then gives you the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen in your life. This little shit.

-

You made your way to the surveillance compartment with determination and poise, holding the big champagne bottle you “borrowed” from the bar, which you grievously emptied in the sink. This was going to be over quickly, and hopefully so would Tangerine’s fight. You did not have time and the necessity for a dead Tangerine on this train, you could use all the help you could get, even if that help came in the form of an incredibly irritating man with a thick mustache and a somewhat funny British accent. You couldn’t fight the six men together in case one team decided to radio the other, if no one radioed back and they noticed something sketchy was going on, they could call for backup, the last thing you fucking needed. 

“Excuse me.” You calmly announced yourself to the soon-to-be-dead men in the compartment. The room wasn’t very big, with only a small desk and a few shelves to the back and left side of the room— understandable, given all they had to do was sit and watch the security camera footage of the different parts of the train, primarily the dividing compartment, the one Tangerine was soon to be in.

“Ma’am, you cannot be in this area.” The shorter one snapped. 

“Just give me one-second sir,” You requested, holding up your finger. You set the champagne bottle down on the floor to your left, and took off your low heels, setting them down neatly to your right. The men waited in confusion, most likely assuming you were just some drunk. You picked up the bottle with your right hand.

“Okay. Let’s go.” You launched the bottle on one of the man’s faces with as much force as you could muster, then ran to the second man, wrapping your legs around his head and leaning forward, dropping you both to the ground then punched the back of his head. You kick the ankle of the champagne-bottle-struck man who falls to his knees, then kick him again in his bleeding face, knocking him out. The man you were on top of pushes you off of him, leaving you lying face up, he gets a punch in, then proceeds to strangle you. You stick your fingers inside his eyeballs causing him to loosen his grip around your neck, you push him off of you, then roll your body on the ground positioning your legs so they’ll be next to his head, proceeding to strangle him with your thighs. You hold him in a tight grip until you hear his neck snap. 

You get up off the ground and analyze the two men. Champagne bottle man was knocked out, still very much alive, so you pick up one of the glass shards from the shattered drink and stab him in the heart. Good, you’re done. You brush off your pants, adjusting them, and the screen gets your attention. It’s Tangerine, and he’s getting his fucking ass kicked. Whenever he tried to get a punch in, someone else behind him managed to strike him first. You sigh. Bloody theatrics. Those bloody theatrics could have saved you from this trouble. The men then take him to a compartment right after theirs, forcing him to sit down. The men talked a bit amongst themselves, and left him, thankfully, alive. Two men stayed back in his compartment to watch him. That’s your cue to go save this damn stubborn man.

-

“Hello? Please, please help me!” You sobbed. I mean seriously, you were actually sobbing— tears were streaming down your face, your voice was cracking…you could win a fucking Emmy with just how good your goddamn performance was right now. This was about to be the best bloody theatrics Tangerine has ever seen in his life.

“Ma’am you can’t be in here!”

“Please, please help me I’m begging you! There’s an insane British man chasing me and I think he’s trying to kill me!” The, now four, men exchanged glances with each other, knowing exactly who you were talking about and wondering what the fuck they would do with you now. “Please! I think he’s coming and I really need help, please!” You wailed, getting louder, they’re going to have to help whether they want to or not.

“Okay! okay lady, we’re going to hide and protect you okay?” One of the men seethed.

“Thank you, thank you!” You cried some more. The man took you to a tiny bathroom next to the room you were in and shut the door.

“Alright ma’am, you’re gonna need to calm down a bit, then we’re going have to find another place you can hide in alright?” He stated, not even bothering to try and sound the least bit empathetic. Now expressionless, you turn to him, smudged black makeup under your eyes making you look even more deranged. His face drops and he doesn’t have time to react to the ceramic soap dispenser you strike him in the face with. It hits him with strength, so his head bounces back hitting the wall and he falls to the ground, causing a loud thud. You get his gun, which thankfully has a silencer.

“Hey! Is everything good in there?” Our number one out of three knocks on the door. You turn the handle slowly, then open the door as fast as possible, twirling Number One around and using him as a human shield. You shoot Number Two, then Number One who you throw in front of Three to block his view, when that’s done you also shoot him. You finish off the man in the bathroom before positioning your back against the wall, waiting for one of the men who were on Tangerine-watch to come out. When he does, you kick his knee, hit his head with the gun, then shoot him in the head. You hear Tangerine wrestle with the other man who was left with him. The fight quiets down, and you take a peek— Tangerine was, expectedly, the winner.

Now, you were the one with the shit-eating grin, not bothering to hide your smugness, and wearing your pride like a badge instead.

“Don’t fucking give me that look alright? If it wasn’t for the little shit hiding behind me every time I tried to make a move I would’ve won the fight.” He stated, seemingly trying to convince himself more than you. He was way more disheveled than the last time you saw him at the bar, his face sweaty and hair untidy, with wild curls falling in front of his face, much different than the slicked-back look he had beforehand.

“Mm, I don’t think so.”

“I’m a good fuckin’ fighter okay?”

“Oh I believe you, but like I said, it’s not about the fight, but the plan— my plan, which was better, and ended up saving your ass at the end of the day.” 

“Okay fine, yeah. Your plan was much better and we should have gone with it from fuckin’ the beginning, is that what you want me to say, love?”

“Thank you, and you’re welcome, now you know you should actually listen to me,” You slowly approached him. He stood with his hands on his hips, knowing he couldn’t give you any reply that would successfully defend him from this. “But hey, don’t worry about it, ‘cuz sometimes some plans…” You take another step towards him and tuck one of his loose curls behind his ear with your finger, tracing it down the side of his face, then letting it linger on his jawline. “…are just better than others.” You smile and give him two taps with the palm of your hand. Now you can both continue on your mission, and this time you’d do it with a smile on your face, knowing you proved Tangerine wrong. You are definitely not letting him forget about this. Ever.

[albertfinch]

OVERCOMING OURSELVES - THE TRUE BATTLEGROUND

 Christ Jesus warns us that a time is coming when many will fall prey to fear and panic because of the things they see coming upon the earth. (see Luke 21:25-28)

LIVING IN PERFECT PEACE

True tranquility of soul, genuine godly peace, is only found in the person of Christ, not in some ritual or self-help practice. He alone is the Prince of Peace.

It is imperative that we come to understand our Christ identity and maintain a deep walk in the Word of God -- this will bring about the freedom we need to draw near to the Lord. Each day we must affirm our oneness with Christ, seeking to yield, ever deeper, our will to His PURPOSE for our life.  It is as we face Him in faith--open and trusting--that we are changed into His likeness (see 2 Corinthians 3:18).

THE SPIRIT OF FEAR

The "spirit of fear" is a form of bondage and spiritual slavery. It is a ruthless taskmaster attempting to steal the seeds of DESTINY and PURPOSE being awakened within the hearts of many of God's people. The Lord knew us before the foundation of the world and He deposited within us the divine seeds of kingdom design and DESTINY.

The only cure for fear and anxiety is abiding in the Word, the person of Christ Jesus. Paul declares in Philippians 4:6-7 (AMP):

"Do not fret or have any anxiety about anything, but in every circumstance and in everything, by prayer and petition (definite requests), with thanksgiving, continue to make your wants known to God. And God's peace [shall be yours, that tranquil state of a soul assured of its salvation through Christ, and so fearing nothing from God and being content with its earthly lot of whatever sort that is, that peace] which transcends all understanding shall garrison and mount guard over your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."

As we turn our inner focus, our will, to Christ and place our affections on Him, meditating on the love of Jesus flowing into and through our heart into the lives of others that we are discipling, adjusting our thoughts to the Word --  particularly the scriptures that have to do with our identity in Christ -- we will discover abiding peace.

DESPITE THE STORMS

Despite the storms, however, God's plans and PURPOSE for your life are wonderful.  Jeremiah 29:11 says: "'For I know the thoughts that I think toward you,' says the Lord, 'thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.'"

We can begin to walk in our PURPOSE as we seek first to bear fruit that remains for the Kingdom of God. Paul states in 2 Corinthians 5:9, "Therefore we make it our aim, to be well pleasing to Him." We must desire to fully finish the course (our DESTINY in Christ) -- in such a manner as to hear the Lord say, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

PROPER IDENTIFICATION OF THE BATTLEGROUND

Your battleground is not the circumstances of your life. The true battleground of the enemy is in your mind, will, and emotions. Keeping your thoughts and heart focused on Jesus and how you are able to meet the spiritual needs of others through Him, will prevent darkness from overtaking your soul.

ALBERT FINCH MINISTRY

[saint-stanthony]

A St.Expedite Prayer💸

Sharing another St expedite prayer I like to use, this is one known for calling on St expedite for desperate causes and urgent needs. Please feel free to use and share this! (noting that any part of this prayer can be personalized, omitted or changed if needed for comfort! Don’t pray something that makes you uncomfortable!)💜

My Saint Expedite of urgent and just causes,

please intercede for me with Our Lord Jesus Christ.  Succor me in this hour of affliction and despair, my Saint Expedite.

You who are a Holy warrior, You who are the Saint of the afflicted, You who are the Saint of the desperate, you who are the Saint of urgent causes, Protect me, Help me, Give me Strength, Courage and Serenity.

Hear my plea: (Clearly express what you want, and ask him to find a way to get it to you.)

My Saint Expedite, help me to prevail through these difficult hours, protect me from all those who want to harm me, respond to my plea with urgency.

Bring me back to the state of peace and tranquillity, my Saint Expedite.

I will be grateful to you for the rest of my life and I will speak your name to all those who have faith.

(promise to give Saint Expedite a specific offering when your petition is fulfilled!)

Amen

(one Our Father, one Holy Mary, sign of the cross.)

[larabiatasstuff]

Part four🖤

I started to panic but then I noticed a small dart sticking in his neck. I looked up and saw two of Stone's men in a police car one of them holding a tranquilizer gun. "Fuck!" I jumped up closing the door in the back, I put the blanket under his head and got on the driver's seat. "Shit, shit, shit..." turned the key and started the engine, a quick look in the mirror, they were still behind us. I took a quick look over my shoulder to check if Sweet Tooth was still breathing and gladly he did, barely visible but he was alive and that was all that mattered. I paid attention to the road again so I wouldn't crash into something when I realized that the police car was now in front of us. "Okay Y/N try to calm down, you got this... Fuck which button was the one for the missiles?" I looked at the brown bag on the passenger seat "You're not a great help Harold." I turned to the dashboard and pushed one of the buttons. The ice cream song was playing. "Alright how about this one." I pushed the big button in the middle and suddenly high pitched laughter was heard and two clown heads were shot in the direction of the police car. I hit the brakes and watched the car go up in flames. "Jesus Christ!" I got up and went into the back of the truck kneeling beside the still unconscious man. I put two fingers on his neck checking for a pulse, I needed a moment to find it but it was there. Why did they do that to him? I couldn't finish my thought, I had to do something, I needed help. What if he died? I climbed back to the drivers seat and buried my face in my hands desperately trying to hold back my tears. Then I noticed something in he corner of my eye, I turned my head and saw Miranda's map lying on the seat. I could have sworn that I put it in the bag. I carefully reached out and poked Harold with my finger. "Cut that creepy shit Harold." I said and took the map. I knew what I had to do, so I put the map on the dashboard and started driving.

Part one and previous chapters here 🖤

[scuffle-with-spirals]

One of the wildest things I think that can happen in Grand Bazaar is just, stuff during blizzards lmfao. To set stage, during Winter, so far, it seems like you can’t fish or crop. Like. The river is straight up frozen over, allowing you to walk on it and cross to usually impassable areas, occasionally finding items. There’s also a lot of blizzards, at least for me this year (Winter 1).

So far, I’m not used to the weather indicator on the bottom right of the top-screen depicting how the weather is, so, following my once-strict animal care routine, I’m picking up all my four chickens and putting them outside first thing on Winter 1. Seeing the blizzard, I think, “Oh well this is just snow, haha, it’s Winter!” I put them in the outside pen, as well as pushing my cows outside.

Then I notice I’m sliding. Farmer’s slipping and sliding and it’s kinda hard to control. I get a hang of it eventually, but soon, in going to brush my cows I notice they’re sliding too.

After just getting a new field, I go to it, and all the way on the left hand side my cows are bumping into the far end trees and angry. Realizing that, oh, maybe this is extreme weather (!!!11), I sloooowly push their asses back inside, taking way too long due to the ice physics. Once they were in, I put up my three chickens. Three.

Thinking maybe the last one had managed to manage slip out of sight, maybe wander inside my house, I scour the entire map thoroughly, wondering where they were. Starting to panic, realizing that I didn’t know how well I was going to Do in the bazaar this season (I had only briefly seen the frozen over river on the next map iirc), most likely needing to rely on livestock to get by, I did a soft-restart. Despite the blizzard, I thought maybe this slightly buggy, often repetitive 2008 DS title could’ve glitched the chicken out. Redid the day. Nobody went outside, things were good!

AND THEN THE NEXT BLIZZARD HAPPENED. OKAY SO.

ApPARENTLY—

IF YOU JUST. TOSS YOUR CHICKENS OUT IN THE WILD TRYING TO AIM FOR THE PEN ON A BLIZZARD DAY

THERE IS A VERY GOOD CHANCE, THE BLIZZARD WILL JUST SNATCH YOUR CHICKEN

AND THEN YOU, HELPLESS TO EVER CATCH THEM, CAN ONLY RUN AND WATCH THEM BE CARRIED AWAY BY THE WINDS

AGHGHGHG ???

I USED TO PLAY HARVEST MOON A LOT BACK WHEN I WAS YOUNGER BUT LITERALLY ONLY ANIMAL PARADE/NEW BEGINNING/RUNE FACTORY 4 AND JUST A SMIIIIIIIIIIIIDGE OF TREE OF TRANQUILITY Y’ALL I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO THE FARMING STAGE IN THAT LAST ONE SOMEHOW LMFAO

Can someone please name any other HM games where non-standard animal losses can be. that extreme like jesus christ dude I came here to get silly at the bazaar not get silly at the mercy of nature woagh!!

TL;DR: I didn’t follow the weather and Smimbi get carried away in a blizzard 3^3

[crystalkleure]

Saying shit like "go to therapy" and "get help" as an insult is like, deeply fucked up lol

Don't fucking tell somebody to "seek mental help" as an equivalent to saying "I think you should be locked up in a psych ward until I deem you more palatable to exist around here in society with us Normal People," Jesus Christ??

I have DID, and thus also the severe PTSD that necessitated the development of it. I cannot tell you how many times someone has nastily told me to "get help/work on myself" for just visibly displaying symptoms of an incurable condition.

I talk to myself, out loud. I space out and stare at nothing sometimes. Things that seem benign can make me very visibly anxious/distressed, even if I manage to keep functioning anyway in spite of it and even tell people not to worry because I know my fear is irrational. I get confused, I don't remember things. I sometimes speak with irritation in my voice, though it's not directed at anything external, it is directed at the 10 other people in my head who won't shut up while I'm trying to focus on something. And yet, even if I explain this, the external people around me still get offended by my tone.

Sometimes I tell people I need space, and they tell me something like "Oh but I just want to tell you about this nice thing/I just want to show you something cool real quick!" and continue speaking to me when I am already too overwhelmed and trying to communicate this, leading to me snapping at them and possibly even shouting at them to stop, which offends them because they were "just being friendly." Me asking for space is perceived as unreasonable because they think I should not need it, because needing it for the reason[s] I've provided is "not normal."

I am told it is rude of me to just be visibly unwell, it's inconsiderate to other people because it's inconvenient to them, it's embarrassing to the people I'm with in public because "people are staring." Even if I know how to get through whatever problem I'm having, like to shut my eyes and cover my ears and stop for a minute, or to say something to myself out loud because I can't currently commit it to memory otherwise due to dissociating, it's still unacceptable.

I am told it is childish to carry a stuffed animal or other toy around in public at my age, even though the tactile sensation of fidgeting with the object gives me something to focus on other than my own thoughts, which makes the toy excellent anxiety-abatement.

I'm told it's inappropriate behaviour, because it's weirding people out. I'm told I need to be able to either 1. not have these problems in the first place, or 2. be unbothered enough by them to hide them completely, before it is acceptable for me to be around other human beings.

I had a panic attack in a car once, inconveniencing the person who was driving, because they had to pull over through heavy traffic due to the high chance I was about to vomit. I was harshly scolded and blamed for this, and told I ought to be pumped full of horse tranquilizers. I was compared to an animal and told I should be sedated against my will, NOT because it would make me feel better, but because it would make me more bearable to deal with. "You should have your autonomy taken away because you having autonomy inconveniences me." And that is only one example of the many times I have been told something like that. "Get help," "fix your life," "you need medication," "you need to be strapped down and sedated," said with disgust instead of concern when I am in acute distress.

And then I am told I cannot be offended by this because "What's there to be upset about?? It would be good for you. Do you just like wallowing in misery, do you just want pity without allowing anyone to help you? Do you not want to improve as a person?" [Hey it's fucked up that "no longer having a mental health condition" is considered "improving as a person" btw. Mental illness is not a fucking moral failure.]

I was in therapy for years. I would be in therapy right NOW, if not for transportation issues. Therapy is great. I love therapy and highly recommend it to anybody who is struggling. It will improve your quality of life significantly. It will bring you a lot of peace of mind.

Therapy did not magically cure me. Not all mental conditions CAN be cured. Therapy actually taught me to do the exact behaviours that people tell me I need to be institutionalized for, the talking to myself to help with the memory issues, the methods to calm down when distressed.

I've even been medicated before, nothing really helped and the side effects were too detrimental to my physical health. It was determined I actually do better unmedicated.

This has all made it pretty clear to me when somebody is suggesting I go back to therapy out of concern for my wellbeing, because they can see I am suffering and would like me to NOT be suffering, vs. when they are telling me "Go away until someone fixes you and makes you Not Weird, so I don't have to put up with you in the meantime."

HEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS, taught to me by a mental health professional, are met with disgust and admonishment for being Weird In Public. I DID go to therapy. This is what the therapist literally told me to do!

Hey, is the person covering their ears and humming to themself in a clearly distressed way actually causing harm to you at all, or are you just AFRAID they might attack you because some part of you thinks "mental condition" = "potentially dangerous"? Are you afraid FOR the suffering person, or are you afraid OF them? There is a big difference, and we can tell which one it is when you say shit like "you need help" with revulsion instead of worry in your voice.

[girisstuxxd]

WHAT NEEDS TO HAPPEN IN SOLAR OPPOSITES SEASON 4

*terry and korvo to resolve their dispute from the little mountain lake episode*

*the replicants (or pupa) to call terry and korvo “dad” or “dads”

*The valentines special to LIVE UP TO ITS NAME JESUS CHRIST DONT DO THIS TO ME, PLEASE LET THEM BE ROMANTIC PWEEEASE I BEG*

More yumyalack moments! Poor emo boy:((

Jesse focused episode

TERVO WEDDING TERVO WEDDING TERVO WEDDING

What will probably happen in solar opposites season 4

The dispute will be brushed off but then later on they come back to it and make up/ just burry it

The pupa will mistakenly call them dad or dads and then terry starts crying

Mayhaps ONE ounce of romance….pwease 🥺

Yumyalack does his own thing/ side mission

More screetime dedicated to the wall (which I’ll happily take as well)

(Might come back to this post when the episodes actually release to see what I got right, lawl xD)

Solar opposites season 4 ‼️SPOILERS‼️

*typing on August 14th, 11pm*

Okay so…I was only right about a few things XD

Their specific dispute that we saw last season (little mountain lake) WAS actually talked about/ mentioned? But mostly through the red goobler (Chris) explaining it to Jesse when she had her own goobler. I actually liked that him and korvo actually met again so it could be explained that for korvos goobler to disappear he has to get over that specific issue he has (like Jesse did).

Pupa hasn’t called them dads yet, but he acts more of a toddler (and they acknowledge that what their family needs to do is important for the pupa and I like that structure they had) which is AMAZING, because holy shit they act like a family so many times this season 😫💝💕💕 (and call each other a family and it’s amazing 🥺💕💕)

ONE OUNCE OF ROMACE?!?!!?! ERmMMMM more like 10 cups of it 0//////0 we were FED a BOUNTIFUL this season and the village is thriving.

Cough cough pinroll

Yumyalack does do his own thing and gets a bit of characterization but nothing else really. The birth a day episode was like a little glimpse of it, however it was very nice :3 and I like the way they’re taking his character.

More screen time DEFINITELY, and FINALLY A MOMENT OF FUCKING PEACE AND TRANQUILITY IN THE WALL THANK FUCKING CHRIST IT WAS A RELIEF. The silvercops also got alot of attention here as well! And it was pretty good; the world that was created by symbolically establishing anti-cop messages (which I LOVE) was amazingly done and I appreciate that they didn’t shy away from showing the ugly side of things (ie. discrimination, violence, gentrification, etc).

The ending of the silvercops plot kinda confused me though like wtf? Uhhhhh what’s happening….?

❤️ 💕bonus stuff!! 💝💞

Canonical terry dyscalculia? FUCK YES YESSS

WE GOT MORE SHLORP WORLD BUILDING YESS

Aisha characterization yayyyyy!!! I love her so much 🥺

Jesse and yumyalack sibling bonding!!!! Yippie yippie yippie

Not gonna lie the way korvo acts this season makes me wanna punch him, like why is he a dick?? Sure his character in early seasons was grumpy but he never really went out of his way to be an ass, just controlling or salty, but no! The whole goobler thing with him and Jesse and him roasting yumyalack went way too far (in my opinion) and it also just made me uncomfortable like dude, that’s ur kids SHUT THE FUCK UPPP rahhhhhh.

Terry and korvos relationship definitely improves though.

The ending of the season…..*deep breath* I’m mixed about it, like I know it’ll be solved in the upcoming valentines special but a little part of me is worried that it’s just gonna be a “hahah we got you, they’re actually gonna be humans and get discriminated against again” and that makes me scream.

I’m mixed about it because I’m curious about how this’ll work yet I fucking hate how they couldn’t just talk it out at home (like they usually do)

I just *hhHHYGYGYGYgy* I..I’m scared, but also excited.

Overall, I did really like this season, a lot of the parts made me happy stim and about make my heart skip beats. I’m so ecstatic for what’s next 🥺💕💕

[raxistaicho]

Fantasy Invader starts on the Claude arc! And also his racism arc!

You knew it was gonna happen. Three Hopes had Edelgard detractors showing their asses where Claude is concerned like never before, because in the end morality in Fodlan just comes down to whether a person likes or dislikes Edelgard and Rhea. I wonder how they'd react to somebody who thinks both are wrong? Oh wait, that was Claude in Three Houses, and they decided he totally came around on Rhea.

I did some researching myself, and just for once I think FI actually got some decent Buddhism symbolism in Three Houses.

To an extent, anyways. See, there's this story about how the Buddha was a golden deer king in one of his past lives, and he offered up his life as a sacrifice to a pregnant doe that was about to be slaughtered for her meat. Then there's just the ubiquitous deer symbolism of tranquility and innocence, which fits quite nicely into Buddhism. Evidently forest critters are big in imagery concerning the religion.

That's not the impression I got from the stories I read. If anything it sounded like the Buddha back when he was the deer king was already a pretty stand-up guy.

Also yes, this is going to be extremely racist. Sorry, actual Claude fans T_T

He's... not receptive to the teachings. He ends the story just as much not a follower of the Seirosian faith as he was at the start of the story. He's more faithful in general than Edelgard because he starts the story much earlier on the road of character development than she did and lacks her trauma, but he's still not pro-Seiros.

We don't, though. Claude doubts whether the church prohibits contact with the outside because it was politically convenient for him at the time: he has Byleth in VW to reform the church, and he needs the Knights of Seiros to beat the Empire.

And he doesn't personally treat Rhea as a force for good in his S support, nor does he urge Byleth to carry on her work. Note the emphasis on new values.

Also, Rhea herself admits she was a failure and a negative for Fodlan in her S support:

Uhh yup. FI went there. Before Claude came to Fodlan and learned the ways of the white people living there and got to know the white pope lady, he was a barbarian! He returned to Almyra all enlightened and learned!

Hahah, and you thought FI was only gross about Edelgard and Dorothea.

Also, the last bit about blaming other people for not liking Almyra, that's almost certainly FI complaining about Claude's battle dialogue with the pirate captain in Alois and Shamir's paralogue, which was... (sigh)

A mistranslation by fuckin' Treehouse.

In the original JP, Claude didn't say criminals like the pirates are the reason Almyrans are hated in Fodlan, full stop, but that people like them make things worse. Which they absolutely do.

Thanks to Teaspoon for this one.

(sigh) the two flags look nothing alike, you fuckin' idiot.

And no, the story of Verdant Wind is partly an infodump for stuff they didn't have in Silver Snow, but it's also the story of Claude learning to open up to and trust people. Except he still kinda doesn't since he never tells Byleth his true name or who he really is, but eh.

What Verdant Wind isn't is the story of Claude learning actually Rhea was right about everything. Because she wasn't, as she herself admits.

Yup, when Claude only knew brown-people ways he was "animalish", but he learned the ways of white folk he became enlightened!

Jesus Christ, Edelgard detractors got fucking gross over Almyra after they followed Claude to the Dark Side in Golden Wildfire.

Also as a reminder, dawn is good in Three Houses and bad in Three Hopes, even though Azure Gleam explicitly ends just before dawn:

This is a common headcannon from anti-Edelgard Claude fans, except there's... no sign of it in canon. Again, when Claude had a chance to talk about how much of an othered outsider Rhea was, he instead talks about how kee-razy her story was. Fact is, Claude never compared her to him, even after learning her backstory. Probably because Rhea's isolation was entirely self-inflicted. Contrast her against Seteth, who gets along with people just fine and has a positive relationship with both his colleagues and the students.